


A Bit Of A Stretch

by panda_shi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Married Life, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Naruto Time Skip | Naruto Shippuden, Staring, Yoga, explosive reaction, strong emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_shi/pseuds/panda_shi
Summary: Tenzou is always in control of his emotion. He is also aware of how people like to stare at his attractive partner. They never stare long enough to gauge a reaction out of him. Until one day, someone does.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Yamato | Tenzou, Umino Iruka & Yamato | Tenzou, Umino Iruka/Yamato | Tenzou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 137





	A Bit Of A Stretch

**Author's Note:**

> Random nonsense plot. Self-beta’d.

Tenzou considers himself to be a steadfast, no nonsense, logic driven man on the things that truly matter. He isn’t the kind to give in to the whims and folly of violent emotions, isn’t the kind to make decisions based on said emotions; he is a man of little to almost no words. He is more action oriented, driven by conditioning, training and practice of hyper-keen observation, focus and unbending resilience. Tenzou is a strong man because he knows his limits and understands his surroundings’ limits, as well. 

He is secure in his abilities, his position in the village hierarchy. And ever since Iruka, well.

Tenzou has never been more sure of who he is, what he is. He’s never been more sure about his purpose for living this long, surviving everything since he opened his eyes to a darkened ceiling, the stench of noxious chemicals thick in his nose, prominent in his throat, and still clinging to his skin.

Short of his duty to Konoha, coming home to Iruka, bringing joy to Iruka, protecting Iruka, is Tenzou’s answer to a higher calling.

Iruka, Tenzou knows, is loyal to him. He looks at no one but Tenzou, his heart handed over to Tenzou willingly, where Tenzou keeps tucked closed to the chest, under his armor, under the skin, so close to the beat of his own, where no one can really see unless they cut it out of him. Iruka looks at Tenzou with all the love in the world, the warmth of sweet sunkissed summers and the glow of a million stars. Iruka smiles at him in a way he doesn’t do with others, not his students, not his peers. It’s the same way he smiles at Naruto, the boy he considers his son in everything but blood, except this, Tenzou thinks, burns hotter. It’s a raging fire under press of soft lips, of hollowed dimples and gold dusting over pools of rich earth. Iruka looks at Tenzou like he’s the only man in existence worthy of his attention, of the brush of his hands, or press of his lips, or the soft murmurs of the syllables of Tenzou’s name at dawn, when Iruka’s arms would tighten around Tenzou, hold on to his warmth just a little longer. 

Iruka is the most beautiful when he is the happiest.

And if there is one thing Tenzou knows he’s getting right, it’s maintaining and fulfilling Iruka’s happiness.

Gods, he can look at Iruka all day. Iruka being Iruka.

Like Iruka drinking his morning coffee, and his afternoon tea. Iruka reading a new book under the glow of their living room lamp, semi reclined on the lazyboy chair of their living room, a leg tucked under the other outstretched one, chewing on his lower hip as he goes through the pages with rapt attention. Iruka humming as he plates dinner, or packs up leftovers into bento boxes. Iruka rubbing his neck as he diligently works through his students’ workbooks, quiz papers. Iruka biting the corner of his lip as he glues award ribbons for his students, maneuvering rolls of red ribbon, glue, colored paper, markers and scissors. Iruka massaging oils into his scalp that smells like summer oranges, listening to his favorite radio show on the mall pocket FM radio in their bathroom. Iruka dusting off his clothes by the garden before stepping into the house, flushed red from his training routine, fingers tugging the blue fabric off the expanse of lean, finely carved muscle that sits on a narrow built -- so deceptively strong, so incredibly beautiful. Iruka taking an afternoon nap on their living room sofa, or even better, Iruka lying spread on the bed, his hair fanned out on the pillow, lips parted and a sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, eyelids lowered at half mast as he rides out the last of his orgasm, with either Tenzou still buried into his body, or Iruka’s cock nestled deep in Tenzou’s throat. Even when Iruka is shouting down the street or beyond the Academy fence for children who had snuck out of class, orif he’s dragging them back by their ears, his expression twisted to that of irritation and outrage, Iruka remains attractive.

A sight to behold.

A sight for Tenzou to fully enjoy.

Not that Iruka goes unnoticed by the general populace.

When people bothered to look beyond title, rank and clan name, well, people liked to _look_.

They liked to stare at the slope of Iruka’s neck, at the cheeky smile that can promise the most lurid fantasies coming true if Iruka so chooses. They liked to stare at the curve of his ass, that slight inward dip of his lower spine. They liked to stare at Iruka’s mouth, his eyes, and if his hair is down, well, they like to stare at that too. And the fact that Iruka cares only for the right thing, the fair thing, regardless of rank, title and clan name -- well, his fearlessness makes him even more attractive. So, of course people stop and stare.

Who wouldn’t?

Tenzou knows he isn’t biased when he says that Iruka is the most beautiful man he knows. 

And really, most people who do stare has the common decency to look away before they get caught either by Iruka, or worse, by Tenzou. Tenzou isn’t foreign to having his partner get hit on; he never had to step in to shoo the annoying flies away. Tenzou and Iruka have a running tally and joke on who of them can gather the most ridiculous proposition ever. They laugh at it, they use it on each other which more often than not, would lead to heated touches, parted lips and bruises blooming like wild indigo and crimson peonies.

That kind of attention doesn’t bother Tenzou. 

He doesn’t bend over or get bothered under the collar by such things because Tenzou is secure in his relationship with Iruka. It is not in Tenzou’s nature to be envious nor is it his style to give into the petty, whimsical sway of jealousy fits, insecurity or worse, anger.

(It takes a lot to get Tenzou angry. And those that do manage to get him angry, well. They don’t really live to tell the tale.)

Tenzou doesn't do emotional fits.

It is messy, it is impractical and it is a waste of energy.

Or so he thinks.

Until one summer morning, Tenzou gets proven wrong.

*

It is seven in the morning when Tenzou steps into the apartment, dusty, grimy, with Kakashi in tow after a rigorous morning spar. The rooftop apartment is quiet, devoid of any presence save for their house cat napping lazily by the stretch of glass lining one side of the living room. The dog, Tenzou spots, is in the garden, right next to Iruka, tongue lolled out, excited barks disturbing the peaceful morning, circling Iruka, stubby tail wagging furiously as Iruka goes through his morning stretches, under the splash of the sun’s golden petals stretching ever outwards in Konoha’s summer blue.

Iruka’s amused one-sided conversation with Coconut pauses when he changes positions, gracefully switching from Eagle pose to the Lizard pose. Ah, Iruka is feeling a little lazy this morning, Tenzou concludes, as Tenzou spares Iruka a quick glance, while he walks by the living room to the study to gather the seal reference scrolls Tenzou had borrowed and Kakashi has come to collect. Usually, Iruka’s stretches and meditation would involve complicated poses that would make a taijutsu expert proud. Iruka must have slept in if he’s doing light stretches. That, or he’s got training plans in the afternoon with his former field team members. 

Tenzou finds the scrolls, gathers them and steps back out in the living room, where he finds, much to his not-quite-amusement, Kakashi is staring at his shirtless lover, open bookin his palm ignored, who is now bent over in the Downward Dog pose, grinning down at Coconut who is lying belly up under him, one leg kicking excitedly. Tenzou stands there, listening to Iruka ask Coconut all sorts of doting, loving questions while Kakashi stares.

With attention.

A little _too_ much attention.

Iruka switches from the Downward Dog to the Lizard pose once more, left leg forward. Kakashi keeps staring. The pose holds for twenty seconds before Iruka switches to the right leg. Kakashi keeps staring.

“On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you this morning, Prince Coconut?” Bark. Bark. “My, you do sound like a ten. Is there a reason his royal highness is happy today?” Bark. Bark. Bark. “Ah, yes, of course. When your other loyal subject is home, that means you get to eat a nice, fat juicy steak, don’t you?” Bark. “I knew it. You do think with your belly! What’s wrong with the chicken I feed you?” Bark. Bark. “Hey. Don’t snub chicken! They’re good for you!”

Iruka shifts to his sixth pose, or maybe the seventh, legs elongating to a perfect split into the Wide Leg Forward Fold pose, Coconut scampering from under him to sit obediently on the lush, green grass, barking repeatedly.

Tenzou stands there, like he’s some sort of structural wall, ignored, barely acknowledged, as he watches Kakashi watch his lover do his morning routine. Something normal. Something he does every goddamn morning after his coffee. Kakashi who has his book open but is totally not reading because the person in front of him who his now folding up to the Shoulder Stand pose is a lot more interesting, a whole lot more beautiful than any purple prose tucked within the pages of the Icha Icha series. 

Kakashi, whose ears are a touch red.

Red from the heat of their vigorous spar and training. Red from where Tenzou landed a brutal punch and kick earlier that will require some ice.  
  
Or maybe it’s red from the attractive body in the garden, now bending backwards to stretch the gluteal muscles in the Plow Pose. 

Tenzou sets the scroll down on the kitchen counter, the twinge of irritation in his chest blooming to an open scowl full of distaste when Kakashi keeps staring. Iruka switches over to the Happy Baby pose, Coconut choosing to stretch himself like a rolled piece of brown and white dough over Iruka’s belly when Tenzou firmly slaps Kakashi on the goddamn arm with the back of his hand because really?

Fucking really?

Tenzou is standing _right_ there _._

Kakashi turns, book clapping shut rather audibly, meeting Tenzou unamused, irritated expression with h his own sheepish expression that Tenzou dares -- out right dares him -- to make an excuse for. 

Nothing comes.

Good.

“Bye, Senpai,” Tenzou says dryly, dismissively, tipping his head expectantly and uncaringly towards the door.

“What, no breakfast?”

“No,” Tenzou responds, cool, calm, collected with the open dismissal. If he had any plans to even offer breakfast, well it’s gone out the window and into the gutter several meters below.

Kakashi claps Tenzou on the shoulder, his sheepish, embarrassed laugh bouncing off the walls of the apartment.

“Ahhh, so very serious~” Kakashi crows, but says nothing more as he shows himself to the door and leaves without another word. 

Tenzou steams in the heat of his irritation, at this outright helpless show of open ogling. Not that he blames Kakashi, or anyone in all fairness. Iruka has no clue just what he does to people sometimes when he’s doing something as routine, something as basic as a Cat or Cow pose. Or maybe it’s because he has his hair up in a loose bun, with the sun’s warmth painting gold over his bare chest, his dose of natural vitamin D, Iruka likes to say, _because what is the point of our garden if we don’t make the best of it?_

Did Kakashi have to stare that damn long, though?

Did anyone?

The irritation coils to something hot, something petty, something so foolish, bubbling up to the surface of Tenzou’s skin, airbrushing in crimson, his breath pinching as his lungs pushes downwards in a fit of _anger_ , this display of disrespect (not intentional, he knows, he knows) towards him and damnit, seriously? _Seriously_?

And in a fit of uncontrolled, ugly, heinous betrayal of emotion, Tenzou kicks out a little too hard, with a little bit of controlled chakra and knocks over a potted peace lily, startling the poor cat who scurries away and glares at him by the television.

Staring at the spilled soil and broken pot, Tenzou huffs a slow strangled exhale and with it, releases the last of his temper tantrum.

*

It’s how Iruka finds Tenzou, scowling petulantly at the ground as he sweeps the last of fallen, scattered soil with a handle brush onto a dust pan, correcting the last piece of visible evidence of Tenzou’s rather twitchy reaction.

“You’re back! Had a good spar?” Iruka carols, clearly in a good mood judging by the tone of his voice , stepping into the cooler living room, Coconut in tow. 

“Yes,” Tenzou mutters, standing up from his crouch and disposing of the soil. He pointedly does not look at Iruka simply because he knows his face is scrunched up like the tip of a steamed meat bun.

“Oh-kay, well, I am going to go wash up and — what happened to the peace lily?” Iruka stares at the empty space by the living room floor to ceiling window, confusion all over his face.

The question prompts a heated flush to bloom all over Tenzou’s face. Pride makes him straighten, iron in his spin, lips sealed like an airy tight vacuum. Ego makes Tenzou refuse to pay the missing pot any attention. The pot that he kicked. And broke. With a wee bit of chakra. Because Bakashi-senpai was exercising and flexing his perverted eyes all over Tenzou’s partner just like any other full blooded, healthy, not blind male in Konoha. His Umino Iruka, his beloved, precious, jewel, his pride and joy and hope, his beacon in the dark, his true calling and home, the love of his life — no. 

Enough. 

No point over-reacting like a _child_ over spilt milk. It’s not in his nature to wallow over things. Tenzou decides, then and there, as his stomach twists and his next exhale comes out rather measurably from his nostrils that the next time so idiot, pervy jerk who happens to be a regular, healthy male who swings toward the Umino Iruka way (like many do after keen observation, that is), Tenzou is going to plant an enthusiastic high-five in the middle of their fucking face if they stare for more than ten seconds in his goddamn presence.

Tenzou sucks in a breath, chest puffing out. He holds the air in his lungs for five seconds and then slowly exhales.

Yes. A high-five to the face. To be replaced by a fist if the staring continues.

Tenzou twitches, shaking the involuntary reaction off as he shoves the brush and dustpan back in its proper place under the kitchen sink, the cupboard clapping with a bit of an audible bang.

“It fell,” Tenzou explains, rinsing his hands quickly. When he turns, he meets Iruka’s quirked eyebrow with a bit of a flushed twitch. “Mango did it.”

“Mango,” Iruka parrots. Unimpressed.

Bad move.

Tenzou’s fingers twitch again. He casually shoves his hands into his pockets. From the corner of the room, Mango regards Tenzou with her most judging face, green eyes narrowed, not at all bothered by the curled up dog beside her. “I’ll make a new one.”

“Okay,” Iruka says, putting his hand up, walking towards their bedroom. “I don’t believe you, but okay. When you’re done, I’ll be the shower. If you want to join me.”

“...right,” Tenzou murmurs, watching Iruka disappear into their bedroom. 

The shower turns on, the rush of water loud and filling the apartment. Iruka has left the door open in invitation. Tenzou listens to the rush of water for a full minute before huffing out a sharp exhale, stalking forward where hopefully, Iruka can help him forget about his stupid loss of control and his even stupider petulant reaction.

Mango meows at him as he walks by. Tenzou ignores her. 

She can be the scapegoat for just this one time. 

*

Or not.

“It was me,” Tenzou eventually admits, lying damp in bed, still boneless in his post-orgasmic bliss that Iruka has sucked right out of him with that soft, pliant, cheekily smiling mouth that had been so full flesh and—

“Hmmm?”

“The peace lily. I kicked it.” Tenzou clears his throat, pointedly _not_ looking at Iruka, ignoring the renewed slow curl of heat in his lower belly. Iruka stops brushing his hair and is now looking at Tenzou, naked and wonderful, hair spilling like silk over his back and shoulders. Damn. Iruka is looking at him with that yes-go-on face of his. The patient one. Tenzou shouldn’t have lied. “I kicked it because Senpai kept staring at you. While I was there. While you were stretching.” 

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Tenzou sighs, flushing with a bit of shame and embarrassment. “Sorry.”

The pause between them stretches for a few beats before Iruka resumes with his hair brushing. 

“Well, Naruto does refer to him as Pervy-sensei, sometimes,” Iruka offers a little hesitantly, but not unkindly. 

“The entire village populace is perverted,” Tenzou grumps. It’s not about Kakashi. It just happens Kakashi has bigger, shameless balls than most would dare. 

“And those were very basic stretches. We teach them at the Academy. Everyone does it.” Iruka sets the brush down.

“It’s not the stretches, Iruka. It’s you,” Tenzou mutters, closing his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Gods, is Iruka beautiful.

The mattress dips as Iruka settles besides Tenzou, pressing a warm palm over Tenzou’s stomach in a gentle caress. “Well, now that I know the real reason you were such a ruffled, broody little chicken earlier—“

“— what? I was not!”

“Extremely broody. All twitchy. Feathers ruffled and puffed up and all. Blaming our poor, very innocent, cute fatty cat—“

“— hey!”

“Honestly, let them stare all they want. Let them think, imagine and what-have-you.” Iruka rolls his eyes, shifting and straddling Tenzou’s hips. “You’re the only person for me. I have nothing more to spare for anyone else. Too bad, so sad. And if they try to touch, well, I can kick them in the face.”

Tenzou’s hands settle on Iruka’s hips, as he adjusts himself and props himself against the arranged pillows and headboard, the corner of his lips twitching up to a bit of a smirk. Oh Iruka would kick them all right. “I know you will.”

“That being said, since you were oh, so honest with me, perhaps I should reciprocate.” Iruka leans over and presses his lips to Tenzou’s ear, where the hot whisper that follows makes Tenzou’s stomach swoop and plummet inwards, heat igniting a forest fire in his belly, his mouth going completely dry. “You defending my honor, getting so, so _mad_ , so _destructive_ — well. It’s a little sexy.”

Iruka’s hands adjusts Tenzou’s palm over his pre-cum dripping, slowly hardening cock.

Tenzou _groans_ , sucking in a soft breath through gritted teeth.

“Next time you lose your shit, please let me watch,” Iruka exhales hotly, as he dips and opens his mouth to slant over Tenzou’s own.

Tenzou doesn’t know if it’ll ever happen again. But one thing is for sure. He won’t make foolish excuses about it anymore. Ever.

(It’s not so bad, expressing hyper-emotions. Not when he’s with with Iruka, anyway.)

“Yes, Iruka-sensei.”

*

That night, while Iruka played their dinner, Tenzou slips Mango a large, prime boneless steak of salmon as an apology.

Iruka pretends to not notice at all.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Chicken reference thing triggered by Rikacain. 
> 
> Thoughts? Only Kakashi can ever trigger Tenzou. Because he is the man he respects the most. Ever. Also, Coconut is a cute mostly brown Corgi with little white socks and splashed of cream on his belly! Mango remains the cute fat striped tabby cat. Who is a real cat on instagram @bo-mang-co
> 
> LOL TENZOU THE CACTUS?
> 
> Yell all you want! Love you guys!


End file.
